Exactly What I Am
by QueenElspeth
Summary: Snarry one short written per request. Set during Harry's fifth year so obviously, don't like, don't read.


A/N My first ever Snarry, quite short, written for PandaPens!

_Cho leaned in towards Harry, he could see the tears on her cheeks, dripping onto her shirt. For some reason, he was very aware of the mistletoe above them, at the edge of his vision. He swallowed, unsure what to do as she grew closer and closer, he closed his eyes, heart hammering in his chest. Is this what first kisses were like? All nervous and heavy with emotions, with tears. And then, that first brush of lips on lips. The kiss deepened, Cho leant against him, he placed his clammy hands on her hips, not really sure what to do with them. He had expected something more... just more. Expected it to feel 'right', or something, that's what they told you, isn't it? Maybe he wasn't doing it properly, he hadn't anticipated to have so many thoughts clogging up his brain while it was happening._

"Concentrate, Potter," a snide voice pierced through the scene, it collapsed, like a fake wall, revealing cold, wet dungeon stone behind it. He saw a desk, and a man with a highly unimpressed expression on his features leaning on it, wand held lazily in his hand.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. He felt groggy, slow, like he'd been underwater for just a little bit too long. He opened his mouth to speak, to protest.

"Don't bother, Potter," Snape cut him off, "nothing is 'private' from me." He sneered at the word, at Harry's foolish notion that he would give a damn what he wanted to say. Harry bit back an angry retort, simply glared. He hated these lessons. They did nothing for him, just exhausted him. When he wasn't entertaining notions that Snape was simply weakening his mind for Voldemort, he thought perhaps he was deliberately tiring him out so he would fall behind on his lessons; maybe have to stop playing Quidditch.

Running his hand through his hair, Harry took a deep breath, trying to empty his mind like he was supposed to. He was finding it increasingly difficult, Snape just had a way of getting to him. Hermione found it absurd, she just didn't understand that Snape was more than a teacher to Harry. He was his father's enemy, he was the man who made his time at Hogwarts miserable as often as he could.

"Let's try again shall we," Snape said, "Legilimens!"

_Harry turned his back on the Yule Ball and made his way outside with Ron. Harry had just realised what the noises coming from the bushes were when he heard Snape talking quietly with Karkaroff, he sounded even more irritable than usual. After their conversation, Snape brushed past them, surprisingly not taking any points. Harry watched him walk briskly way, wondering what he had Karkaroff had been talking about._

Harry was suddenly back in the dungeon facing the present Snape again. He blinked, the fast transitions momentarily throwing him. He knew Snape would be angry at him but he looked defiantly into his eyes. He felt Snape had no right to invade his mind then complain about what he found there.

"I might have known you would be an eavesdropper, Potter," Snape said, his cold eyes flashing dangerously.

"I would have thought a spy would know better than to have conversations out in the open, _sir_," Harry retorted. He felt exhausted and it was making him snappy, not that it took very much for Snape to annoy him.

"You might think you're better than me, Potter," he spat out Harry's name, "but I can assure you that you are misguided in this belief. Now then, let's try again."

"Give me a minute!"

"The Dark Lord wouldn't even consider 'giving you a minute!'" Snape exclaimed, marching across the room and leaning down over Harry, his hands on the arms of his chair.

"I know that," Harry replied hotly, getting up and attempting to push past Snape who shoved him straight back into his seat.

"Nor would the Dark Lord let you get up and wander off whenever you feel like it!"

"You aren't Voldemort!" Harry yelled into Snape's face, losing his temper. He saw Snape curl his lip, the cold, hard glare in his eyes flared into a burning anger.

"In this room," Snape said slowly, softly, bearing his teeth, "That is exactly what I am. If I want to penetrate your mind, I will. If I want to hit you, I will. If I want to _fuck_ you, I will."

Harry stared, at a complete loss for words. Snape was sick, there was no doubt about that, and he might just be verging on lunacy to boot. Harry was torn between trying to push him off again or just hex him and be done with it when he felt a very strong grip on his thigh, much to high on his leg for his liking.

"Get off me!" he yelled, scratching the back of Snape's wrist in his attempt to wrench his hand away. He succeeded and managed to throw Snape off balance for just long enough to get up and make a break for the door. His fingertips brushed the door handle before Snape yanked him back and threw him face first over the desk. Harry let out a strangled yell, his wand flew out of his hand as Snape reached around him and undid his trousers, letting them and his boxers drop to the floor.

"You can go when I say you can go," he hissed in Harry's ear before yanking the robes off his shoulder and biting down hard. Harry yelped in pain, trying to break free but Snape used his other hand to grab hold of his prick. He squeezed it threateningly before relaxing his grip and giving it a single, quick stroke. Harry was mortified as he felt himself stiffening.

"I don't want-" he started to say but Snape cut him off by moving his hand up and down his cock, Harry couldn't see his face but he could imagine perfectly the triumphant smirk he would be wearing. He licked and sucked at the bite mark he had left on Harry's shoulder, still gently wanking his cock.

Harry realised, with a sharp stab of shame, that he was going to come and he redoubled his efforts to get Snape off him. Pushing backwards with his body, trying to get up off the desk, he felt Snape's hardness press into his ass and his thigh through the Professor's robes, straining. He froze. Then, worse, he came. Snape laughed dryly in his ear as he released his cock and wiped Harry's mess on his own shirt. He slumped over Snape's desk, feeling like he should be crying but seemingly having lost the ability to do so.

He was breathing slowly, if he closed his eyes he could almost be in his bed about to drift off to sleep. It was then that he felt a cool liquid being applied to his ass, a bizarre swirling around his entrance that was uncomfortable and kind of pleasant at the same time.

"What the-" Harry exclaimed, lifting his head off the desk. He caught a glimpse of Snape behind him without his robes on before his head was slammed back onto the desk, glasses digging into his temple. A hand was placed firmly on his back between his shoulder blades preventing him getting up again.

That swirling sensation started up again and then an unfamiliar pressure. It took Harry a few moments to realise what it was. Snape's finger was_... in him. _It didn't exactly feel bad but he certainly wasn't enjoying it. The finger started to move, further inside of him then back out again. Harry realised he was sweating, some of the parchment on Snape's desk was sticking to his cheek. Just as he was getting sort of used to the feeling, it got bigger. Two fingers driving in him before slowly pulling back out, repeating the movement.

Harry made a noise of protest, tried to wriggle away again and Snape let him up a little bit before smashing him into the desk again, winding him. He split his fingers inside Harry, stretching him, the boy cried out, a choked sort of sob that was part pain part horror as his cock started to waken again and nudge against the desk.

Three fingers curling inside him, widening him. Harry had his eyes closed, face against the desk, trying his hardest not to react to what was happening to him. He wanted to be sick and he wanted to fuck for all he was worth at the same time. He hated it, hated Snape even more for doing it to him but mostly he hated himself, his betrayal, his enjoyment.

When Snape removed his fingers, Harry thought for a brief moment that it was over. That is until Snape drove his dick straight into him, no warning, not giving Harry time to adjust. He cried out in pain, wincing and balling his hands into fists, scrunching up someone's homework.

Snape drew out of him and ploughed into him again, his hips banging against Harry's ass cheeks. Harry cried out again but this time it was somewhere between a cry of pain and one of pleasure. Snape had adjusted his stance slightly, widening Harry's legs in the process, and hit his prostate.

Fuck, it was good, Harry realised with dismay as he pushed his hips back to meet Snape's next thrust. It still hurt, but that sort of added to the jolt he felt whenever Snape brushed over that spot in his ass. He began pushing into him faster, hand still on the small of Harry's back, holding him against the desk, his other hand digging into Harry's hip, sure to leave little half moon marks.

Harry reached under the desk and began stroking himself in time to Snape driving into him. The combination of wanking and being fucked made Harry's orgasm short work and he grunted as he spilled hot cum onto Snape's desk. His ass tightened with his climax and Snape collapsed on top of him with a short cry, his load inside Harry as he panted and withdrew himself.

By the time Harry mustered the energy to turn around, Snape was already fully clothed. Unsure what to do, he dressed and found his wand before edging towards the door, feeling a stab of pain in his posterior as he took a step. He almost made it before Snape turned towards him and spoke.

"You may think you're a big man in this school, Potter, but now perhaps you'll have got it into that thick skull of yours that I am bigger. Do try and achieve something before next weeks lesson or I may have to employ other methods of teaching you. Is that understood?"

Harry glared, his eyes sliding past the Potion's Master to the white stain he had left on his desk before opening the door and slamming it behind him. He made his way slowly back to Gryffindor tower and went to bed without a word. Hermione and Ron didn't say anything as this was usual practice after Occlumency lessons but Harry almost wished they had. He wanted to talk but at the same time never wanted to utter a single word again.

With the horrible sensation of something disgusting and slimy wriggling it's way down his gullet, Harry realised that he had actually lost his virginity to the bastard. His fingertips found the indentations on his hip where he'd been marked, fingering them. Not for the first time that night, Harry wanted to throw up, wanted to get that slimy creature right out of his system. He knew this wouldn't be the end of it, knew Snape would be revisiting this particular memory next week. The Boy Who Loved would just have to find a way to deal with this, on top of everything else. He just didn't know if he had the strength for it.


End file.
